


Where It's Warm

by maiNuoire



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Mentions of Yuri, mentions of phichit - Freeform, st petersburg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 05:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9307043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maiNuoire/pseuds/maiNuoire
Summary: Living in St. Petersburg is so different than anything Yuuri has done before. But he is different, too. And living there with Victor makes it all worth it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I love these two so much, and I just want to see them happy. So here's a little of that! Please let me know what you think, and if I should write more Victor and Yuuri :D

Saint Petersburg is cold.

 

It’s cold in a way Hasetsu isn’t, in a way that gets through his layers of clothes and down into his bones. It reminds Yuuri of his time in Detroit, and that sends an unexpected pang of longing through him. Longing for a time when he hadn’t won too much of anything, when the pressure was less of a crushing weight, when he had Phichit at his side and his easy chatter to keep his anxiety at bay.

 

There were, of course, things he had in his life now that no amount of nostalgia could compete with. For starters, now he has a Grand Prix Final silver medal. He has an ever expanding list of friends, something that’d be all but inconceivable to a younger Yuuri, and an endless source of delight (and minor disbelief) to him now. He has more confidence, more stamina, a greater sense of his strengths on and off the ice, and even though the inner voice that tore him down so relentlessly in the past was not silent now, he had so much more to draw on to quiet it.

 

Yuuri has discovered that he was not so invisible and unnoticed during all those years of training and competing. He has fans as well as friends among his fellow skaters, people who look up to him. The responsibility of their admiration feels like a gift rather than a burden. He's found a similar sense of motivation and reward in his relationship with Yurio, his rival who has quickly become a grumpy but loveable little brother.

 

Yurio pushes him to do better, to challenge him, to prove himself wrong, and Yurio gains the same drive to succeed from Yuuri's success and support. Yuuri thinks that his little same-named friend is even starting to get the same rush of pride from Yuuri’s achievements that he feels when Yurio succeeds. Though he knows that he would only admit it under duress.

 

And, most wonderful and unbelievable of all, he has Victor. His coach, his friend, his inspiration. His _fiance_.

 

He has Victor's unwavering support, his encouragement and expertise. He has Victor to push him and praise him. He has Victor's laughter and his kisses and his ring as a comforting weight on his finger. He has Victor's love.

 

That alone fills Yuuri with enough warmth to keep even the coldest Russian days from chilling him.

 

And, here in St. Petersburg, Yuuri and Victor have a home. A place where the cold and the pressure and the prying eyes of the media can't touch them. Opening the door of their apartment always feels a little like walking into Victor’s arms.

 

As he approaches the door, fumbling the keys slightly as his still-cold fingers begin to thaw, he feels his shoulders relax further and he takes an involuntary deep breath that comes out in a happy sigh, and a small smile begins to curve his lips; it’s all unconsciously done, but the reaction is nonetheless familiar and welcome, a pleasant side effect of being in love.

 

He finally fits the key in the lock, and as the door swings open, he takes a moment to appreciate the way his and Victor’s things have melded together to create a home that is uniquely theirs. It’s been a while since he moved to Russia, but seeing their things so seamlessly combined still gives him a glow of warmth in his heart.

 

Before he can get too far into his thoughts, he’s greeted by a very excited Makkachin, and Yuuri is not one to deny the adorable poodle attention. He corrals her into the apartment and lays his duffel and skates by the door before bending down to scratch her behind the ears, receiving happy kisses in return.

 

There’s a quiet chuckle before Victor calls out for him from where he is lounging on the couch, somehow still all graceful lines and effortless beauty, even in stockinged feet, loose sweatpants, and an oversized shirt. “Yuratchka, come; I missed you!”

 

Yuuri laughs at the playfully plaintive tone in Victor’s voice as he begins shedding his coat, scarf, and various other layers of winter clothing, hanging them carefully by the door before removing his boots. “Be right there, Vitya,” he calls back, his voice coming out teasing and fond. It’s a rare thing for them to have entirely separate practice schedules, so they don’t often get to experience coming home to each other like this; Yuuri finds he enjoys the feeling and decides they should try to make an effort to do so more. Perhaps he can insist they run errands on their own sometimes just to have the pleasure of being reunited.

 

Makkachin weaves around him excitedly as he makes his way to the couch, and her exuberance is as much a part of making him feel at home as the way Victor calls to him, and the sight of their clothes hanging together in their oversized closet.

 

Victor reaches his arms out, inviting Yuuri into a warm embrace, but his wiggling fingers belie the casual gesture. It makes him smile to know Victor is just as eager to be reunited as he is. Yuuri laughs as he crawls up the couch toward Victor’s imploring embrace. “Hello, Vitya,” Yuuri coos into Victor’s neck, dragging his nose gently along the sensitive skin below Victor’s ear and placing a kiss along his jaw before giving in to the gentle tug of Victor’s arms and settling his weight along the length of Victor’s body. They each release a happy sigh at the contact, their arms wrapping around each other with the ease of familiarity. Victor kisses the top of Yuuri’s head where it rests on his shoulder, and Yuuri lifts his chin to bring his lips to Victor’s in a brief, warm press.

 

“Hello, my Yuuri. I am glad you’re home, moya lyubov'.”

 

“I’m glad to be home, watashi no ai.”

 

Yuuri smiles into Victor’s shoulder, and smiles wider when he feels Victor’s own grin pressed into the crown of his head. They hold each other for a few long, quiet moments, tracing lazy patterns on one another while Makkachin dozes lightly in front of the couch, before they fall into an easy conversation about their days and plans for dinner; the details of a life being built together.

  
Saint Petersburg is cold and loud, but in their little piece of it, in their home, in each other’s arms, it is warm and quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think! And then come see me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/poetry-protest-pornography)  
>  !


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